Right Number, Wrong Girl

He relayed the story of the lamb again.

“Dreadful shame.” She actually looked as though she agreed. “Camilla will be here in…” She checked her watch. “Any moment, if she’s got good manners.”

I frowned. “She doesn’t have to be here for another ten minutes.”

“Exactly,” Mum replied, turning to Dad. “Rupert is preparing the drawing room with some tea now. I would appreciate if you could talk to your mother and ask her to co-operate.”

“Whatever makes you think she’ll listen to me?” Dad asked. “The woman doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“George!”

“I’ll ask.” He picked up his cup of tea and walked over to where Grandma was now browsing the newspaper and grumbling about the price of fuel.

The only thing she drove was my mother up the wall.

“Where’s your brother?” Mum asked me.

“I don’t know. I don’t have a tracking device on him.”

“Watch your mouth. You’re not too old to go over my knee, Hugo.”

My family was utterly exhausting sometimes.

“Ah, Your Ladyship. Miss Hopkins is waiting in the drawing room for you.” Rupert bowed in the doorway, and Mum instantly brightened.

Scarily fast, actually.

“Hugo. Come with me. Where’s Nancy?” She paused and looked at Dad. “George, please bring your mother.”

It was like being in the military.

“Nancy is waiting outside the drawing room for you. I fetched her a second ago,” Rupert replied. “If you’d follow me, please.”

I followed behind Mum, glancing back to see if Dad and Grandma were following yet.

They weren’t.

I’d be surprised if he was able to convince her to come.

“Good morning, my Lady,” Nancy said, then turned to me. “Lord Hugo.”

“Good morning, Nancy,” Mum replied as I acknowledged her with a nod of my head. “Rupert, do let us in. We’re wasting time.”

Rupert opened the doors and stepped aside. Mum fell in behind him, then me, followed by Nancy.

“Miss Hopkins, I’d like to present to you Her Grace, The Duchess of Devon. Your Ladyship, this is Miss Camilla Hopkins.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hopkins,” Mum said, stepping forward and extending her hand. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Your Grace,” a very familiar voice replied. “But I—”

“Please, let me introduce you to my son, Lord Hugo, The Earl of Exmoor.” Mum stepped aside, and I fought a smile.

Sophie was standing in front of me.

Or was it Camilla?

Sophie swallowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Hugo.”